


Almost Innocent

by pauraque



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Play, Community: hp_kinkfest, Established Relationship, F/F, Incest Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Toys, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-14
Updated: 2014-05-14
Packaged: 2018-01-24 19:56:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1615148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pauraque/pseuds/pauraque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katie Baby just can't wait for Mummy to get home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Almost Innocent

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2014 round of [Harry Potter Kinkfest](http://hp-kinkfest.livejournal.com/), to [missingkeys](http://missingkeys.livejournal.com)' prompt: _Mummy/babygirl_. Thanks to [Hannelore](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hannelore) for beta-reading, and to missingkeys for prompting one of my very favorite and not-written-enough kinks!

Katie's been waiting all day. She tries to do the sort of things she'd usually do on a weekend afternoon off — reading, making tea, putting her books in alphabetical order — but she keeps glancing up at the clock. It seems to move so slowly. And the other clock, the one where Katie's hand points to _Home_ and Alicia's to _Work_ , doesn't move at all.

Restlessly she wanders their flat, coming into a room and then forgetting what she's doing there. As the clock inches closer to 4:30, her stomach gets fluttery and her legs feel tense. She leans against the window sill, early spring breeze caressing her face, and stretches her calves and thighs as though getting ready for a match.

When at last it's time, she almost runs into the bedroom, eager to begin. She strips off her clothes, and as she tosses each piece of her everyday outfit into the laundry basket — T-shirt, jeans, knickers — she feels like a snake shedding skin, throwing away the outside part of herself, the part others see. She takes the clip out of her hair and shakes it out, loose and wavy. When she looks at herself in the mirror on their closet door, she smiles at what she sees. Her naked skin is a canvas, raw material, ready to become someone else.

She opens the lowermost drawer in the bureau and finds her little girl clothes, a splash of pastel against the neat piles of grown-up black and denim blue. Her hands are trembling as she takes them out. They're a bit creased from having been stuffed in the back for a while. It's been too long.

She puts on the socks first. Pink with little white hearts. They fit snugly and barely come up to her ankles, because they came from a real children's shop. She curls up her toes to slide into them, and as she feels the stretch of them against her skin, her heartbeat slows and her shoulders relax. Calm. Oh yes. It's been much too long. Sitting on the rug, she stretches out her legs and wriggles her toes, a smile coming to her face unbidden.

She puts on the knickers. They're white, with clean lines, as though for a girl so young that any hint of lace would be inappropriate. That plainness is what makes them perfect. The cut of them feels so right as Katie pulls them on over her hips, covering up more skin than her regular ones do.

Then the dress. Katie loves this dress. Before she puts it on, she spreads it out on the bed and smooths it out reverently, running her palms over the soft fabric. It's pink, sleeveless, with a bold purple and yellow flower print. It was a thrift store find, and Katie is careful as she pulls it on over her head; it's small on her and a little threadbare, and she doesn't want to burst a seam.

The tightness of it feels good, pressing her breasts flat and hugging her around the waist. The tiered skirt of it only comes down to her knees, leaving the rest of her legs bare above her socks. It's an older sort of dress, like she's going to a birthday party in 1988. As she puts her hair up in twin pony tails, she sways her hips back and forth playfully, watching her dress swirl in the mirror.

The hand marked _Alicia_ on the clock slowly clicks over to _Travelling_ , and a thrill of excitement runs through her body. She plops down on the bed, bouncing up and down a little.

"Mummy will be home soon," she says to the empty room, pitching her voice up slightly. Saying it aloud helps her slide into the place she wants to go. She pictures herself — Katie, the grown-up — moving back, standing aside, allowing Katie Baby to come out. The grown-up part of her is still there, still watching and keeping everything safe, but it grows quiet, allowing a different set of thoughts and perceptions to come forward. A few minutes pass, and she feels that shift happening in her mind, where she is no longer pretending, but _being_.

Katie Baby is a good girl. She sits on the edge of Mummy's bed, hands in her lap, pink stocking feet swinging back and forth. Mummy will be home soon. Maybe she'll let her watch telly, or make her a snack. She sees herself at the kitchen table with a plate of eggs and soldiers — her favorite — while Mummy bustles about with the dishes, or comes and gives her a kiss on the top of her head, or on the cheek...

Katie Baby does like it when Mummy kisses her. She shifts her bottom on the bed, feeling a little tickle between her legs.

She looks up at the clock. Mummy won't be back for another ten whole minutes. Her eyes drift to Mummy's chest of drawers. What if...

No, no! Mummy told her not to play with the toys in there. Katie Baby is a good girl. She refolds her hands politely, straightening her back.

Oh, that silly clock, why does it have to go so slow? Her gaze turns to the drawers again, as though pulled by a magnet. She bites her lip and glances round, then hops down from the bed. Her pony tails bounce as she moves, kneeling down and rummaging through Mummy's underpants. No one will ever know, will they, if she just plays with Mummy's toys a _little_?

At the back of the drawer, her hand touches plastic. She grabs it and pulls it loose. The toy is long and white, with a big rubber ball at the end. Katie Baby's played with this toy before. And got in trouble for it before... But as she turns it over in her hands, the tingle between her legs grows, and getting in trouble doesn't seem that important somehow.

She'll be quick, that's all. She climbs back up on Mummy's bed, toy in hand, and lies back on the big, soft pillows. A touch of the switch, and the toy rumbles to life. (Katie is faintly aware of the charms Alicia worked out to get it to go without electricity, but the distraction quickly fades.) Katie Baby giggles at the funny feeling of it buzzing in her hand, and lifts up her flowery party dress.

She touches the toy to the inside of her knee, and then rolls the ball of it up her bare inner thigh. She shivers at the feeling of it — tickly, but good. The rumbling noise of it muffles and unmuffles as she runs it up and down her legs, coming closer and closer, and then, finally...

Ohhhhh... Her toes curl into Mummy's sheets as she touches the toy to the front of her knickers. This is what she got in _such_ trouble for doing before, but just now she can't care about that. She hangs onto the fiercely buzzing toy with both hands, rocking her hips forward and back as she rides the pleasure that flows through her body like ocean waves. She feels like she could do this _forever_ , just lie on Mummy's bed with the soft rubber ball of her wonderful toy pressed firmly between her legs.

A click from outside the room — she tenses, hands going still, the toy still vibrating against her private parts as she listens. The front door creaks open.

Has it really been ten minutes?! Katie Baby fumbles to shut off the toy and scurries over to Mummy's drawer to hide it back where she found it. Once it's safely stowed, she jumps back onto the bed.

"Katie Baby," calls Alicia's voice once the door is closed behind her, a little deeper and warmer than her voice is normally. "Mummy's home!"

Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, flushed and dark-eyed, Katie Baby tucks back a stray bit of hair that's come loose from her pony tails and tries to get back into her polite good-girl pose, hands clasped in her still tingling lap.

Mummy appears in the doorway. She's wearing her work clothes: a dark skirt and blazer over a white blouse, with shiny stockings and high heels. (Katie loves her so much right now, for changing out of her real work clothes before coming home.) She looks pretty. Mummy always looks pretty.

"What are you doing in Mummy's room, sweetie?" she asks, taking off her blazer and hanging it up in the closet.

"Nothing," Katie Baby says in a slow sing-song, shifting her bottom and not looking Mummy in the eye.

Mummy plants her hands on her hips and eyes her sceptically, not quite hiding a smile. "Now, you couldn't possibly be fibbing to Mummy, could you, baby girl?"

"Noooo..."

Mummy sits down beside her on the bed and takes Katie Baby's chin in her hand. "I know when my little girl isn't telling the truth," she says. "Were you playing with Mummy's toys?"

"I'm not allowed," she answers with a forced attempt at innocence, winding her hands in her dress.

"Well, let's just see." Mummy draws her hand up Katie Baby's bare leg, lifting up the hem of her dress. "Are you sure you weren't playing... here?"

Katie Baby gasps as Mummy slips her hand into her knickers — a flash of bright pleasure — and then comes out with her fingertips glistening wet.

"It looks to me like someone was having a _very_ good time with Mummy's toys while she was at work," she murmurs teasingly, eyes shining.

"I'm sorry, Mummy," Katie Baby blurts out, her voice small and trembling in her throat. "I couldn't help it! Please don't be cross..." A part of Katie is surprised to feel real tears brimming up in her eyes, hot and shameful.

For a moment it is Alicia looking back at her with a flicker of concern, and then Mummy takes her in her arms, cradling her. "Oh, baby girl, Mummy's not cross! It's all right, there there..." Mummy strokes her hair and wipes the tears from her eyes, smiling at her so sweet and warm and _safe_. The tension drains from her body, and she smiles tentatively, wiping her eye with the back of wrist and sniffling.

Alicia meets her eyes, making sure. She raises an eyebrow and mouths the word, _Okay?_

Katie quickly checks herself, searching for anything dark or uncertain. There's nothing. She nods.

Then Alicia is Mummy again. It's so subtle how she does it, just a change in the way she holds herself, in the way she looks at her little girl.

"I know why you did it, sweetheart," Mummy says kindly, cradling Katie Baby's cheek in her hand. "My baby girl is growing up," she whispers, and leans in to kiss her on the lips, loving and almost innocent.

Katie Baby closes her eyes, feeling Mummy's soft mouth against her own, catching the pretty scent of her lipstick. Mummy puts her arms around her and shifts her back onto the bed, laying her down. She toes off her high heels and lets them fall to the floor, and then curls up beside her, stocking-smooth legs sliding against Katie Baby's own.

When their lips part, Mummy gently rubs the smear of lipstick from Katie Baby's mouth with her thumb, making them both giggle.

"You know, the only reason Mummy won't let you play with her toys," she says, caressing Katie Baby's knees below her dress, "is they're a bit too strong for little girls." Her manicured fingertips trace half-ticklish lines up Katie Baby's thigh. "You're still young..."

Katie Baby gasps as Mummy's fingertip runs gently up the soaked front of her knickers.

Mummy raises an eyebrow. "...and very sensitive. If you need to feel good, I think Mummy should help you."

Arching her back, Katie Baby gazes up pleadingly. "I— I need to feel good, Mummy," she stammers. "It's so tingly down there."

Her voice sounds nervous, yet inside, Katie is deeply calm, like being in the most beautiful trance. She doesn't have to think about the words; they inhabit the deepest, most secret parts of her mind, and all she has to do is let them flow, set them free.

"I know, baby girl," Mummy says softly, her eyes smouldering with adoration. "Mummy's going to help you feel good." And her hand slips into Katie Baby's knickers again, but this time not to shame or humiliate. Gently, confidently, she explores the folds of her private parts, opening her like the most delicate flower. "Baby girl's so wet," she whispers.

As Mummy's fingers slide easily up and down, Katie Baby spreads her thighs, hooking one leg over Mummy's. It feels so good to be touched again after she had to put the toy away, but Mummy's touches are so soft and teasing, and she yearns for a firmer touch. But Mummy knows what she really needs. Mummy knows best.

"Mummy," she says. The shape of the word itself pleasures her as it forms in her mouth, as it comes out in a childlike quaver. She turns her face up, lips parted and begging wordlessly for a kiss.

Mummy kisses her — her mouth, her cheeks, her neck above her pretty pink dress. Mummy knows the soft and sensitive places of her throat. As she writhes beneath her mouth, beneath her hand teasing her kitty, her dress feels tight around her, making the lines of her body straight and slender.

"It feels so good, Mummy," she murmurs, a crease of childish worry appearing on her brow.

"I know, baby girl," Mummy says between kisses, gently stroking her fingertip up and down. "It's okay to feel that way when Mummy touches."

Katie Baby's eyes fall closed, and she rocks her hips to and fro, just as she did with Mummy's toy. She feels like she's drifting on a calm sea, a sea of Mummy's love. So helpless. So dependent. So adored.

"Mummy loves you so much," comes the soothing voice in her ear, as though having read her mind. Mummy's fingers stroke a little more firmly now, knowing just how to touch her. Mummy knows every inch of her body, everything that makes her feel good.

The greater the pleasure, the deeper Katie goes, the grown-up part of herself fading to nearly nothing. Everything about her is little, from the way she strokes Mummy's pretty blouse to the way she curls her little heart-spotted toes.

"It's gonna happen, Mummy," she says, her voice coming out in a whine, her chest rising and falling rapidly in her tight little dress. "I'm gonna feel good."

"That's it, Katie Baby," Mummy encourages her, kissing her forehead sweetly. She's rubbing up and down just to the side of her clitoris, just where she needs it now. "Feel good for Mummy."

Katie Baby's childlike moans grow louder and higher. All of her is Mummy's baby girl, all worries forgotten, all dangers irrelevant. Mummy can do anything — protect her — love her — forever.

Her climax is slow, drawn out over long, shivery moments. Soft and easy beneath the intensity of the love she feels, wonderful and warm.

Eyes still closed, she buries her face in Alicia's blouse, over her breasts. Not hiding in shame, but just giving herself time. It takes time to come back.

Alicia holds her firmly and doesn't say anything. Her body is relaxed, and just holding onto her relaxes Katie too, as though the calm flows from one to the other. As they lie together, eventually Katie starts noticing things, like the twittering of sparrows in the tree outside, and the pearl blouse buttons against her cheek.

When she's ready, Katie pulls away squinting and blinking, like waking up in bright light. She reaches behind her head and pulls loose her pony tails, looking up at Alicia.

"I love you so much that it's fucking ridiculous," she states matter-of-factly.

Alicia lets out a burst of laughter. She props herself up casually on her elbow, now looking nothing like Mummy at all. Her business suit is rumpled and her lipstick is smeared. "Not so ridiculous that you can't carry on doing it, I assume."

"Not quite," Katie says, smirking as she grabs Alicia by the pearl-buttoned blouse and pulls her in for a kiss.


End file.
